Under city, p.5
Under City, page 5
I frowned. “Isn’t that a bit deceptive?”
“If Queen Dubh wants to share that information with the council that’s up to her.” A little bit of joy had left Geira’s tone. But whatever I had said to sour her mood was quickly forgotten as she spotted two piles of black and grey clothing neatly stacked on the middle bed.
She picked up the first pile and headed for the empty wardrobe, which was large enough to act as a changeroom.
“Get your bag off my bed, Annalise” was all she said as the door closed behind her.
“This one’s mine,” I said dryly, pointing to the bed closest to the window. A sliver of rainbow light was covering the foot of my bed. I tried to hold back a smile. I’d moved between a number of living spaces during my time at the college and never had more space to myself than a single bed and a few shelves for clothing and toiletries. Personal possessions that couldn’t be hidden in clothing were either nicked by other students or confiscated by teachers.
Looking down at my double bed, I had never felt so lucky in my entire life. And to top it off I had access to an oversized wardrobe and a bathroom only steps from my bed. Even if I had to share this space with two other people, I was still living a luxury I’d never even let myself dream of.
I sat down at the end of my bed and breathed a deep and even breath, before letting my body fall into the softness of the sheets.
Chapter seven
Annalise
My new room might have been slightly bigger than the one I left behind in Lucknow, but that old room didn’t come with roommates. I’d spent most of my free hour fighting the claustrophobia brought on by the descent, and again by the uncertainty of what I could and couldn’t touch since Geira and Zorya seemed to be so particular about what was theirs.
Neither had shown me much kindness, but hospitality wasn’t exactly what I was expecting when I walked through that portal.
I was counting my blessings I wasn’t in a cell.
Geira spent most of the hour playing dress-up with her new jumpsuits, and only stopped when Hestia’s assistant arrived with more outfits, a pile each for Zorya and me as well.
Every item in my pile was either black, grey, or blue so deep it might as well have been black anyway, and I mourned the collection of cute pastels and florals in my wardrobe at home.
Zorya seemed cautious of the pile of clothing the woman handed her, as if touching clothes other than the uniform she wore would turn her into a smoking pile of ash.
God, she’s so uptight.
After twenty minutes, Geira emerged from her game of dress-up in the bathroom in an all-black jumpsuit with a dark grey floral pattern blending into the collar. Her sleeves rolled up to her elbows to reveal a matching pattern, and she’d paired the ensemble with the only black boots I’d seen her wear so far but had switched her frayed, black laces out for grey ones.
“You two should get changed. Once I’ve done my hair I want to be out of here,” Geira said. “Newbie, what are you wearing?”
The question startled me.
“Um, I didn’t know we were going out.” I looked to the cuffs at my wrist. I’d figured this was it. That I was under house arrest until someone told me I could leave. Getting dressed up to go out shouldn’t be on the cards, right?
“OK, show me what you’ve got,” Geira said before opening my designated drawer and pulling out anything blackish. There wasn’t anything neat about her actions, and I regretted having refolded each item before packing them away.
“Apparently Hestia doesn’t think you’ll be much of a fighter either,” Geira assessed, holding up a navy-blue dress.
I blanched at the idea of fighting but pushed away my questions. One thing at a time, Annalise. Find out why we’re not in a cell first and work from there.
I could have just asked Geira that question, but if Dariush hadn’t shared what I’d done with the council he’d probably kept my secret from everyone else too.
That meant I’d actually have to confront that man at some point. He was so tricky.
There was a total of two dresses and three skirt-and-top ensembles in the pile Hestia had given me, and apart from the light blue jeans I had been wearing for over twenty-four hours, I didn’t have any pants.
“Well, I guess we lean into it.” Geira huffed and threw the dark blue dress at me. Catching it, I realised its molten pattern was actually varying shades created by the velvet fabric.
Forgetting thank yous, I moved to the bathroom beyond the walk-in wardrobe and began to peel my clothes off.
Ugh. I’m gross. “Do I have time to shower?” I yelled to Geira.
“The quickest shower of your life, Newbie,” Geira yelled back with obvious disapproval. The tone was enough to make me reconsider, but I turned the gold-and-silver taps, wrapped my hair in a bun on top of my head and stepped into the steaming shower.
As I washed, taking in the savoury scents of salt and seaweed from the soap, my eyes drifted over the tiles. It took me a moment to realise none of them matched. Yet, each one felt like it belonged to the one next to it. Whoever designed this bathroom had an incredibly resourceful eye.
There were little pictures on every second one. Rowboats that drifted on clouds, the fishermen’s nets cast out to collect stars. A moon with a castle built into its face. A bridge with a town of little people working busily beneath it.
I wondered how the stories might have been told, who’d painted them. Who’d decided that they should be put in a bathroom instead of a museum.
“I said quickest, Newbie!” Geira slammed her fist against the door twice, and I about jumped out of my skin.
Moving fast, I rinsed my body and cut the water before the suds had time to fully make it past the drain.
The dress was as comfortable as it looked. It clung in all the right places, flowing from the waist and brushing my thighs a few inches above the knees. A square neckline and structured, jutting shoulders made the piece look fierce, yet elegant. Like maybe Hestia was hoping to fool people into thinking I had some sort of mean streak in me. Looking at my reflection, I believed the image and hated the dress instantly.
I pulled my hair from its now sagging and slightly damp bun and made my way to the bedroom.
Geira’s hair was done, along with her makeup. Thick lines of black surrounded her eyes and covered her eyelids, smoking out just beyond the crease. Her hair was braided in three places atop her head and pulled into a high ponytail. That combined with her all-black getup, she was the image of death.
Zorya had given in to whatever urge to dress-up had been hiding behind her scowl. Her thick mahogany hair was braided. The length of it kept swept over her shoulder. She still wore black on black though, a fitted long-sleeve top with a high neckline tucked into high-waisted jeans. It did nothing to hide her muscular frame.
When she turned her back to me, more interested in looking out the colourful window than acknowledge my presence, I noticed the plunging back of her top. A red pendant brushed across her spine from what seemed like a backwards necklace.
She looked almost as deadly as Geira, except maybe with a little less eyeliner.
“Chuck these on and get your hair out of your face,” Geira barked and threw a pair of shoes at me that I had never seen before.
“Where did these come from?” The shoes were more like heeled boots. They laced up to just above my ankles and pointed at the toes. Small swirls and shapes decorated the toe and shoelace eyelets, and like my dress, they too were the darkest blue.
“Hestia brought them up just before,” she snapped.
I had the shoes on in no time and decided a quick, neat bun was the only way I’d be able to “get my hair out of my face” without attempting some complicated hairdo.
Geira handed me a makeup bag, presumably from Hestia. I placed some delicate wings and mascara in record time, and then proceeded to apply the deepest red lipstick I could find in my small collection.
“Here, chuck this on too.” Geira threw a wide strip of black leather at me from across the room. The weight of it stung my palms as I caught it. It was a vest of some sort. I wove my arms through two thin straps. The piece buckled in three places and covered my ribcage and chest, save for a bit of cleavage that I didn’t know I had until this moment.
I must have looked nothing like that girl in the forest, because when I walked down the stairs to the main entryway Dariush couldn’t keep his eyes off me.
Much like the rest of the group, he was dressed in mostly black combat attire. It wasn’t much different to what I had seen him in all day. Except now, draped across his chest and shoulders, was a shawl.
Black fabric, pinned with a silver brooch at the space over his heart, swept over his left shoulder and fell to meet the back of his knees. The brooch caught my attention. Its twisted circle of silver surrounded small, white and red stones and more silver that took the shape of a crown.
His jaw clenched as he noticed my staring.
For some reason I felt my cheeks heat up and instantly fumbled with the cuffs on my wrists.
Dammit. Why am I the one embarrassed when he started it?
I didn’t look at him again till we left the house.
***
The city was more like a dome encased in rock. Buildings, made almost exclusively from stone, reached two or three stories high before plateauing at the top. I imagined decked-out balcony spaces decorating every roof from all the noise and glistening light that erupted from those building tops.
It must have been night. Or some version of it.
Neon stars of every colour somehow littered the dome’s ceiling, dancing around large stalactites that dangled dangerously from the darkness.
I took in a sharp breath, suddenly very aware of our lack of escape routes should one of those stalactites decide to disconnect from the nothingness above.
Vast pillars, mirroring the stalactites, rose sporadically between the mass of buildings. They seemed out of place among the stone buildings. Each pillar glistened, speckled with little windows and balconies along their sides. Their presence became more and more common as we neared the centre of the city.
It wasn’t the castle that stole my attention. In front of the clustered mass of glistening pillars was the longest table I’d ever seen.
The table stretched on for the length of the road. Food stands lined the sides of the street, and people moved between them and the table, adding large dishes overflowing with food and taking back empty ones. Multicoloured, neon lights bobbed overhead, and musicians and performers danced down the street, all performing in unison.
Despite their acoustic instruments, the music reminded me of something I might have found at a rave. Techno-like metallic chimes pushed forwards by the resonant heartbeat of drums, all of it woven together by a melody of strings and ethereal voices. It reminded me—
I pushed back against that memory.
Every second or third person had paired a terrifying a mask with some sort of Gothic ensemble. Those not wearing masks wore vibrant colours.
At the head of the table sat a woman in black. Black hair. Black suit pants. Black crown of smoke and flickering lights upon her head.
I goggled at what I was seeing. I must have looked dumb because one of the boys, I hadn’t memorised which one was Nate and which one was Jaz, nudged my arm to grab my attention.
“That’s the queen of Dubnos,” he whispered. “Surrounding her are the royal guard. She only accepts women to guard her personally.”
I looked closer at the figures. Etchings on their grey-blue skin pulsed with a light glow. What I’d first thought to be crowns upon their heads, were horns. The four peaks protruded backwards from their temples and kept their long, free flowing hair off their faces.
They were dressed in a similar uniform to the soldiers I’d been walking with all day, except two light blue lines had been embroidered in a cross over their chests.
Dariush spoke with the queen, I heard nothing over the roaring of the festivities, but I imagined one of their topics of choice was me because the queen glanced my way, tilted her head as if assessing something and then nodded to Dariush.
Ugh. I felt a strange mix of being glad that she seemed to approve of me and being pissed off that she was given the opportunity to form an opinion of me in the first place.
Dariush eventually waved his hand, gesturing that we were free to enjoy the festival.
The five of us walked in silence as minutes ticked on. The boy who’d been the one to try and talk to me in that waiting room, Jaz maybe, picked up two pastries from the long table and handed me one. I hesitated. We’d been eating nothing but plain chicken-and-salad sandwiches over the past two days, and even though I was starving for something sweet, I’d come to assume that anything with flavour was against the rules.
“It’s fine if we keep fit. They just prefer us to not eat junk all the time,” Jaz said.
“But we can just take it?” I asked. While the mood was jovial, everyone seemed to be contributing to the festival in some way, and there were plenty of people working hard to get more food on the table.
I imagined they wouldn’t have been pleased to see us taking their food, especially when we were doing nothing but walking around.
Jaz laughed nervously. “You don’t know anything do you?”
Finally, someone who understood. I stared blankly at him.
“We’re the Tuath Dé’s soldiers. The underdwellers have to feed us because we keep them safe.”
“Underdwellers?” I took the pastry and bit into it. It was sweet like I expected, but sprinkled through the middle was cinnamon and walnuts. I practically drooled.
“Oh, the humans and fae who live here,” Jaz elaborated.
I shook my head and spoke, my mouth full of flaky pastry. “But they have a royal guard here.”
“The queen rules over the kingdom, but it’s a state occupied by the Tuath Dé.”
I was straining to hear everything Jaz was saying. It must have been a contentious topic because he lowered his voice, and I had to lean in closer to hear him.
“The Tuath Dé have ultimate authority, and if they say the people of Dubnos are to feed us while we’re here, then they’ll do it.”
I swallowed my oversized bite of pastry, and the creeping sensation of guilt nearly choked me. I looked down at the half I had left. I’d lost my appetite.
We kept walking, and Jaz filled me in on little titbits about the city in between passing me cups of wine. I tried to refuse at first, but the sweet smell made me curious, and it wasn’t long before I’d downed my first cup. I followed it with a shot of clear liquid that Jaz assured me was just like vodka. It was nothing like vodka, and the harsh aftertaste made me appreciate the wine even more.
According to Jaz, there were quite a few Tuath Dé and other fae who’d made Dubnos their home. About twenty percent of the population were fomóire—the original race of the kingdom. They were the ones with pale blue skin and crown-like horns.
Those who’d chosen to wear dark masks for the festival were humans. Most had been living down here for centuries unable to pass back through the veil after they’d been lured here by old creatures. Apparently, that was illegal now thanks to some treaty between the queen and the Tuath Dé.
I kept my questions about humans living for centuries to myself. The details were starting to blur together with every new glass of wine Jaz handed to me.
He was so lively as we walked and talked. It was like he had all this information trapped in his mind that just needed to escape.
“I’m so glad I met you,” I said, stumbling a little as I spoke as if the ability to do both at once had up and left me. “I’m going to be sticking to you like glue from now on. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, and I’m terrified of pissing someone off.”
Jaz looked pleased with himself, then stopped walking, and I nearly stepped into the man who’d startled him.
“It’s easy to piss my brother off. He doesn’t know what fun is,” the stranger said.
I gave him a once-over. He looked a little like Dariush, older and without the beastly arm. There was a glow to his skin, but unlike Dariush’s golden warmth, his was an icy hue that reminded me of the queen’s guard.
There was a devilish smile etched on his face, and I was suddenly aware of how close he was.
He bridged the little space between us and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “I’ll show you what it means to have fun.”
A shiver ran through me, but I stayed entirely still. How could I move? It felt wrong to just let his words and sudden closeness slide, but I was frozen. I had no idea what the rules were here.
I pushed a foot back, readying myself to back away once I figured out how to respond, but he grabbed my waist.
As quickly as he did, coldness exploded between us, and the man released his grip. Yelping and stumbling backward.
For a split second I thought I’d been the one to push him away, but in front of me a giant dog formed from shadows. It snapped and growled savagely at the stranger.
“Obsidian, heel.” At his owner’s command the dog sat, his seated height nearing mine standing, and stopped barking. He never once took his eyes off his target.
Dariush’s brother shook slightly, his pale skin blanching even more.
“Don’t touch what’s mine, Aed.” It was unmistakable whose voice vibrated from behind me. I felt his tall frame step closer. His anger heated my back.
It took everything within me to not lean back into him and steady myself. The city was beginning to sway.
Wait. What was his? He couldn’t have meant me.
“Just testing her loyalty, brother.” A sardonic smile laced the stranger’s face, and I shivered at the slimy feeling that prickled over my skin.
I did lean back into Dariush then, and his hands curved around my shoulders protectively.
“You’d first have to understand what that word means. Fuck off,” Dariush snarled and ushered me in the opposite direction.
